Cunanan, Koresh and Hearst. On the surface they have nothing in common, other than than being three notorious figures who had done wrong in one way or another (serial killer, polygamist with way too many guns, kidnap victim turned revolutionary bank robber), capturing the world’s attention. Over the past two months, they OVERLY captured MY attention, as their incredible and tragic stories unfolded in three separate, but (mostly) equally excellent TV series – The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, Waco, and The Radical Story of Patty Hearst.

I live for series like these, because things that happen in the real world are always more compelling than stories that are made up (that’s why I STILL prefer Rome over Game of Thrones). I come to these types of series to learn, and to ask why, but what I didn’t realize would happen upon exiting them is that I would find myself sympathizing with these devils. The levels of badness differ between Cunanan, Koresh and Hearst, but after spending all this time with them, I see them now more as humans with flaws (some more deeply flawed than others) than as the pariahs that the media and the passing of time have turned them into.

'The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story'

I am not much of an awards guy, but in my hopes of hopes, I want Darren Criss to win 17 Emmys for playing Andrew Cunanan. Cunanan lived a life of lies, but mainly because he always wanted to impress people, make friends and feel loved and wanted. Darren Criss conveys this so perfectly that I was impressed, and loved his character so much that I wanted to actually be his friend. When Criss as Cunanan was charming and happy, I was charmed and happy. When he was doing wrong, and going on the lam, I was disappointed (and disgusted) that he was doing these actions, and yet I was somehow secretly hoping for him to NOT get caught. What is wrong with me? How could I possibly find empathy for a guy who senselessly murdered at least five people?

ACS: Versace brilliantly tells the Cunanan’s story backwards – starting with Versace’s murder, and tracing his sordid life back to childhood. By the time we learn the truth about his father Modesto, and how he professionally swindled people and left his family with nothing, you can see where everything started to go wrong for Cunanan. He just wanted a better life for himself, but unfortunately, that better life always seemed to elude him, so he took it out on those who were able to do what he wasn’t able to – succeed. And still, I felt for Cunanan. His father disappointed him. It was hard for him to be gay in a time that wasn’t easy for anyone to be gay. He was different and just wanted to feel special. Criss crossed all these roads – the light and the dark, and it somehow filled me with glee (pun intended).

But how could I not root for the Catholic school misfit who shows up at a house party in an Eddie Murphy Delirious red leather jacket and awkwardly takes center stage in someone’s living room, acting a fool like John C. Reilly in Cyrus?? Even if this scene never happened in real life and was dreamed up by the writers, I still have to shout – ‘you go Andrew!’

If only you found happiness in life, and not sadness, and didn’t created way too much sadness for way too many others.

'Waco'

What most people know about David Koresh, the Branch Davidians and Waco, Texas, is that it all ended for the prophet and his flock in fire and brimstone, and it was not a good look for the ATF, FBI and Federal government. What most people don’t know is everything that happened in between.

It’s hard to look at David Koresh and see anything beyond the unkempt hair, the un-ironic wire-rimmed glasses (before they became ironic hipster glasses), and a ‘prophet’ gone ‘mad.’ But who was Koresh, really? He was a messianic preacher man, but also a father, and a lover, and to modern society’s view – too much of a father, and too much of a lover (he sired 12 children with several ‘wives’, some being the wives of men in his congregation, and others young enough to still be considered a child). Unbeknownst to me, he was also a guitarist and singer.

Spike was re-branded as the Paramount Network this year and went big on Waco, their first series – this six-parter with an impressive cast Michael Shannon, Andrea Riseborough, John Leguizamo, that dude from House of Cards, Supergirl), but it all starts and ends (and works) because of Taylor Kitsch as Koresh. Sporting that hair, and those glasses, and an accent that sounds like John Corbett eating Texas toast, Kitsch hides his Friday Night Lights good looks and reads up on the good book.

While I certainly don’t believe Koresh was the second coming or third coming or any kind of coming, I certainly did believe in Kitsch as Koresh, and his right to take care of his family and followers, and protect his home. Prior to this show, none of those thoughts would have ever crossed my mind.

In the re-telling of a 51-day standoff, the series is more talk than rock, but in the penultimate episode, when the Davidians have their backs up against the wall, and the FBI is playing with their minds, and their electricity (stripping them of it), what does Koresh do with the limited amount of power he’ll have from a gas generator? He and his house band (Rory Culkin on drums!) put on a killer rock show for the infidels (the Feds), complete with a cover of The Call’s “I Still Believe”, or better known to you and me as the song that the sweaty sax guy sings in The Lost Boys!!!!!!!!!!!!! That sweaty fellow, Tim Cappello (who actually was Tina Turner’s sax man), even chimed in and said that the cover is “really great, [with] so much passion,” and he appreciated the oil drums on fire as a nod to The Lost Boys.

My newest mission in life instantly became – DID THIS REALLY HAPPEN???? I just had to know. The internet was no help, but I sought answers in the A&E 2 part doc (which was actually more engrossing and heartbreaking than this fictionalized version) – Waco: Madman or Messiah – which interviewed surviving Davidian followers (WHO STILL BELIEVE IN KORESH!!!). My prayers were answered when one of the members who made it out of the compound alive, Graeme Craddock, confirmed that Koresh did indeed serenade the enemy with a rock show. Sadly, he did not confirm that the setlist included “I Still Believe.” (Setlist.fm was no help, either.)

Nevertheless, David Koresh may not rock as a human being, but Kitsch as Koresh has forever rocked my world. It’s hard to say such a thing in the face of a horrific tragedy, but hey, who wouldn’t throw up some a sign of the horns to a holy rock n’ roller?

'The Radical Story of Patty Hearst'

Ms. Hearst, where do we even begin with you? You were kidnapped against your will. The people were with you. They sympathized with you from the start. Then you cooperated with your captors – the Symbionese Liberation Army (SLA), and then eventually joined them and their cause. They gave you every opportunity to leave them and go back to your old ‘simple’ life with mommy and daddy moneybags, and you chose not to. You robbed banks, one that ended up with the death of an innocent bystander, you shot up a sporting goods store, you went on the run (for somehow a long-assed time), and EVEN PLANTED PIPE BOMBS!!!! What a riches to rag(e)s story!!!! And one that lends itself to an extraordinary six-part docuseries, with help from Jeffrey Toobin, who was also behind The People v. O. J. Simpson: American Crime Story.

Hearst was ultimately sentenced to 35 years in prison for the first robbery, but served only two when President Carter commuted her sentence, and eventually got a full pardon by Bill Clinton. The rest of her radical brothers and sisters? They didn’t get off that easy, ’cause money talks, and apparently it gets you to walk free. The rest of you poor folks? Good luck!

Unlike with ACS: Versaceand Waco, there is less creative licensing going on here. Conversations aren’t made up for dramatic effect, and beyond the matters of public record, we get great detail and insight from former SLA member Bill Harris. This man did very bad things (all of what Hearst did above, and more!), and yet, while you listen to this raconteur tell us these tales (from the comfiest looking armchair in existence), you find your head shaking up and down at him, instead of left to right. Bill, I am against robberies (unless it’s stealing Sweet’n Low packets from Starbucks), and kidnapping, and guns, and pipe bombs, but you paid your dues, and I am with you. Patty? Once an innocent young girl, and then very guilty radical woman. She got off so easy. Where’s the justice? Want us to beg (for) your pardon? Pardon us all, Patty!

*OK, so I lied. Cunanan, Koresh and Hearst HAVE been in my kitchen. I like to watch TV on the big screen, but you can’t wash dishes in the living room, and so while I’m sudsing it up in the kitchen, I sometimes watch a lil telly on my iPad. Andrew, David and Patty, remember those times we spent together trying to go clean? Oh that dancing, and that rocking, and all those smiles you gave me. How could you do what you did, and yet all be so entertaining?

Michael Palan is a New York based writer and multimedia producer. He got an A+ in bowling at a midwestern university, and once handed Kurt Vonnegut his coat. In his free time he enjoys Edward Hopper paintings and eating fried chicken.